Christmas Gift
by Wyzeguy
Summary: Following the events of "On Angel's Wings", Scott and Rogue find themselves getting even closer, in ways they never imagined.
1. Part 1

_**Title:** Christmas Gift (1/3)_

_**Author:** Wyzeguy_

_**Universe:** X-Men Evolution_

_**Pairing:** Scott/Rogue_

_**Summary:** Following the events of "On Angel's Wings", Scott and Rogue find themselves getting even closer._

_**Rating:** NC-17_

_**Warnings:** Language; Concentual sex between teenagers (but not minors, since Scott was 18 during the flashback sequence while Rogue was 17, which is legal in the state of New York)._

_**Disclaimer:** All characters herein are owned by Marvel Characters, Inc. I am making no money off of this; I'm simply exploring a possibility that exists in my head between two of my favorite characters. Please don't sue._

**CHRISTMAS GIFT, Part One**

**Wyzeguy**

**JUNE, 2008**

Flames exploded in every direction, before coalescing into the shape of a bird. A terrible, angry bird of prey ... a Phoenix.

The shockwave from the explosion sent the X-Men flying in every directon. Colossus, Beast, Shadowcat, Storm, Iceman, X23, and more ... all were propelled away from the flames by bone-crunching telekinetic force.

"Stay away from me!" the woman at the center of the Phoenix shouted, rage twisting her voice into something unrecognizable. But to all involved, the horror was that the figure could be easily recognized. She was Jean Grey - glowing eyes, fiery red hair, black-and-gold X-uniform, and all.

Scott Summers leaned against a brick wall, trying to regain his breath. The wall was one of the few left standing in the mansion that was the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning; he tried not to think about that. He was Cyclops, the leader of the X-Men, and his team needed him to lead them ... against one of their own.

Against the woman he loved.

Standing on shaky legs, he swept his gaze around to his scattered teammates. No one looked to be in any shape to stand up, at least for the moment. Some of them were durable to the point of near-invulnerability, and a couple had advanced healing factors, but they'd still need time to recover.

Finally, he looked up and saw Rogue flying toward the scene. She hadn't been present when everything had gone to hell, but the explosion was probably difficult to miss. "What the hell's goin' on?" she asked as she approached, her long coat billowing in the wind. "Is that Jean?"

"No time to explain," Cyclops shouted, his voice hard and devoid of any of the conflicting emotions he felt. "Just take her down." He opened up the lens of his visor and projected a powerful concussive beam at Jean.

It wasn't powerful enough. She simply absorbed it into her fiery aura, and he felt her telekinesis dragging him toward her.

"Let go of him," Rogue demanded, swooping in and swinging a fist at Jean with all of her acquired superstrength.

Jean held out a hand to stop Rogue's fist in midair, then gestured to send Rogue face-first into the ground.

"The two of you together," Jean seethed, her eyes glowing brighter and brighter. "It's always the two of you together, even after all these years! Coming between us ... undermining what we had!"

Cyclops tried to ask what she was talking about, but her telekinetic grip on him made even the act of talking difficult. Plus, she'd clearly been driven over the edge by current events, so reasoning with her was looking like less and less of an option.

"I can't stand it anymore," Jean continued with her rant, applying more psionic pressure to Rogue to keep her from standing up. "I'm going to see _exactly_ what you two have been hiding from me!"

Scott's eyes widened as he felt a mental pull of a different kind; chaotic memories flooded to the surface, and it actually felt to him as if Jean were searching through his mind like one would root through a wastebasket for one hidden document.

The deeper she delved, the more painful the feeling became, and Scott screamed. He couldn't help it. Even worse, he could hear Rogue screaming as well.

"I knew it," Jean declared, sounding as if she were ready to rip off their heads the old-fashioned way. "You thought you could hide this from me forever! You waited until I was away; that's when your little affair began!"

**CHRISTMAS DAY, 2001**

"Glad that's over," the young woman known as Rogue muttered, as she reclined in Scott's lap. They'd spent the day on a mission to track down the mysterious "Angel" who'd been sighted throughout New York; that combined with a brief battle with their nemesis Magneto left them exhausted. Their short time spent at the hospital after their encounter with the Master of Magnetism had done very little to help this. It probably had something to do with the fact that neither of them liked spending time in hospitals, much less on Christmas.

The night hadn't been a total wash, however: they'd spent time together, confirmed the existence of a mutant good samaritan, and even shopped. Finally, with their X-Men business taken care of, the two exhausted teenagers sat in the back seat of one of Charles Xavier's chauffer-driven Bentleys.

Scott smiled as he glanced out the windows and found that they'd arrived at the front gates. "Always the cynic," he replied. "We just witnessed a Christmas miracle not too long ago. We found out my guardian angel was real."

He didn't have to see her face to know she had raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "Pretty sure he wasn't your guardian angel," she pointed out. "He was *a* guardian angel, maybe, but not yours. He was just some mutant; I doubt he even knows who your brother is."

"Just trying to be optimistic," he replied with a shrug.

She nuzzled his lap and looked up at him. "Well, here's hopin' you find your angel one o' these days."

He stared back at her, at a loss for words.

The chauffeur turned around to glance back at them. "You want me to drop you off at the garage or on the front stoop?"

"I'm fine right where I am," a drowsy Rogue answered, looking as if she were ready to fall asleep on the spot.

Scott didn't think that was a good idea, since she was all but draped over him. "Er, no, you can drop us off here, and we can walk the rest of the way to the mansion."

That caused Rogue to sit up. "It's cold out there."

"It'll wake you up a little. Come on."

After a few minutes of further urging, Scott and Rogue exited the Bentley and started walking, leaving the driver to wonder which of them was more stubborn.

Rogue hugged her jacket closer to herself and huddled against Scott for warmth as they walked. "You SURE it wouldn'ta been a better idea t'let 'im drop us off in the garage. It's gotta be warmer in there."

Scott tried to keep his teeth from chattering. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

She raised an eyebrow, studying him in profile. A devious smile crept onto her face. "Yeah, right. You were just afraid I'd feel the boner you got from me sittin' almost in your lap like that."

He abruptly stopped walking and stared at her slack-jawed. "Rogue!"

"Oh, c'mon, you think you can hide somethin' like that from me? But walkin' it off IS a good idea."

Scott frowned, turning away from her and walking straight ahead. "Think whatever you like. But the fact remains that walking a short distance in the cold isn't going to kill either one of us." But as much as he didn't want to admit it, she was right: he had been aroused by her proximity in the car. He wasn't sure he wanted to think of her that way, but he couldn't help it. And now that she pointed out, he couldn't think of anything else.

He heard Rogue's hurried footsteps behind him, as she tried to catch up. "Scott Summers! Will you wait up? What're you, mad at me or somethin'?"

He kept walking, staring straight ahead. "It wasn't the most appropriate comment to make."

"Since when have you ever known me to be appropriate?"

"You're right. I should know better by now."

She caught up with him, clearly angry. "Hold on, now it sounds like you should be apologizin' to me!"

He stopped, then turning to face her. "For ...?"

"For that ... that remark you just made! Sounded like some kinda backhanded comment. Just 'cause I'm not a proper lady, you think I'm not good enough for you?"

"Huh?"

"Sorry I'm not all popular an' perfect like Jean Grey, but that don't give you the right to act like I'm some kinda tramp!"

"What does Jean have to do with-?"

Her hands clenched into fists as she grabbed his jacket to pull him closer. They stood eye to eye. "I oughtta knock your glasses off for that!"

"Rogue. Calm down. I didn't mean anything by it, okay?"

"No? Then what did you...?" Realizing how close they were, Rogue let go and looked away. "Never mind. Forget it. Just leave me alone."

Scott watched as she stormed off in the direction of the boathouse near the lake. "What was that all about...?"

It took several minutes - almost an eternity - but Scott finally managed to convince himself to follow Rogue to the boathouse. He could hear her sobs even from outside, and he very carefully knocked on the door.

"Go away," was her predictable answer.

"Are you okay?"

"What the hell do you think?"

"Can I come in?"

Her next response was much quieter, and Scott almost missed it. "Haven't you done enough?"

"C'mon, Rogue, it's freezing out here."

"GOOD!"

"I ... guess I deserved that."

"No shit?"

Scott paused. "Tell you what. I'm gonna go jump in the lake as an encore. If you want, you can come watch."

The door opened, and Rogue poked her head out. Her face was smeared with wet mascara, and her eyes were red from crying.

"I knew you couldn't resist," Scott commented with a smile.

"Do I get to dunk ya?" she asked. "It'll give me some serious braggin' rights around here."

"For being the one to dunk the X-Men's socially-retarded deputy leader in Breakstone Lake?"

Rogue's eyes shone in the moonlight. "For bein' the one to see Scott Summers in a wet t-shirt."

Scott couldn't help but laugh at that. He enjoyed her morbid sense of humor more than he typically let on. "Listen, Rogue ... I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"What do you know about my feelings?"

"You think I don't care about you? Remember all that earlier talk about angels, and how I used to think they were watching over my brother?"

She seemed to ponder it. "Yeah, there was all that stuff about God ... which doesn't make much difference to an atheist. So?"

He sighed, his breath escaping in a cloud of steam. "So ... do you know how rare it is that I tell anyone about that?"

Rogue tilted her head to the side, clearly skeptical. "I bet you've told Jean."

"No." Scott hung his head at the admission. "I've never told Jean that."

Rogue blinked. "You haven't ... so ... Jean doesn't know?"

He shook his head. "I haven't even told Alex that, because he might think I'm an even bigger dork than he already does."

"Why haven't you told her? I mean, you two talk about everything, right?"

Scott looked up at her, and any other time he'd have been mildly amused by her one-track mind concerning his relationship with Jean. "We talk about less than you might think."

Sighing, Rogue stepped backward into the boathouse doorway and tugged his sleeve. "C'mon in, Scott. You're gonna freeze to death out there."

"Does that mean I can't jump in the lake?"

"Maybe later."

A year prior, the boathouse overlooking Breakstone Lake wouldn't have been nearly as much of a relief from the outside cold as it was now. But that was before the current semester had brought an influx of new students to the mansion. They had taken over almost all of the available guest rooms, and as a result the boathouse had been renovated to serve as additional guest quarters. The building that had once served merely as a storehouse for boats was now almost indistinguishable from the interior of the mansion. If anything, it was easier to heat, and it wasn't in as much constant danger of being wrecked by rough-housing mutant teenagers.

Still, between Sam Guthrie's flight power and the various fire-based mutants in the student body, there had been some close calls.

Scott warmed up inside the boathouse, glad for that reason that none of those students were currently on the grounds. Leaving his jacket on, he took off his gloves and warmed them in the heat of the fireplace.

"Likin' the fire?" Rogue asked, reclining on the rug next to him. She'd warmed up enough to remove her jacket, and was now in her light-colored wool sweater and jeans. "Why not take off the jacket, an' stay awhile?"

"I'm fine like this," he replied, though he did feel the need to unzip his jacket more. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath as well, though it wasn't as bulky as hers.

"Yeah, right. You're gonna burn up in that thing before too long."

He smirked. "You just want to watch me take off my clothes."

Her voice came out in a purr. "Never said I didn't."

Scott decided to stare straight ahead at the fire. Suddenly he wished there iwere/i other students around. Maybe then her attention wouldn't be so relentlessly focused on him.

She sat up and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Oh, c'mon, Summers, don't clam up on me now. It's just a little harmless flirtin'."

He raised an eyebrow, turning to her. "'Harmless'? You could knock me unconscious by touching me, and I could kill you just by looking at you without these glasses. 'Harmless' isn't a word I'd use."

She gave a dismissive wave and reclined once again. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You prefer safe people, like Taryn ... or Jean."

His gaze turned into an unkind glare.

"Try to deny it all you want, but we both know that's the reason you're interested in either one of 'em to begin with."

"Rogue." His voice carried an unsubtle warning.

"Fine, fine. You want me to drop it, I will. But first y'gotta prove me wrong."

He continued to glare at her. "That would defeat the purpose of wanting you to drop the subject."

She couldn't help but grin at that. "See? That's what I like about you: you're always thinkin'."

Almost against his will, he felt himself relaxing. He had a hard time staying mad at her, especially when she opened up this much around him. The two of them had talked more in the hours they'd spent in New York than in the rest of the time he'd known her. He was pretty sure she didn't talk to ianyone/i that much.

Then again, neither did he, to anyone but Jean. And even then, there were some things he kept from her. Like angels...

He shed his jacket and lied down on the carpet next to Rogue. They stayed that way in companionable silence for a long while, and somewhere along the way Rogue curled up to him with her head resting on her chest. This felt familiar, like the way they'd reclined in the Bentley as they'd been driven back to the mansion.

Finally, Scott ended the silence with a soft mutter. "You're wrong."

"Now what?"

"About Taryn and Jean. It's not that they're safe."

"Then ... what?"

"It's that if I get too close to them, one slip of my glasses ... or my visor, and-"

"'Zap'."

"Well ... yeah. Like what happens if you're not careful keeping your skin covered."

"So it's about protectin' them from you," Rogue replied, her voice rising in challenge. "It ain't remotely about protecting you from them, huh?"

He rose to the challenge. "Why would it be?"

She sat up, her gaze drilling into him. "I've absorbed your memories, Summers. Not all of 'em, and some of 'em are real faint, but they're in my head. They sneak up on me once in a while. You're not the privileged fuckin' preppy you want people t'think you are. I know better."

He sat up, meeting her face-to-face. "Oh really?"

"If Mystique got to you before Xavier did? I bet you anything you'd've been in the Brotherhood instead of the X-Men. You had that kinda past."

Furious, Scott stood up and walked away from her. "I appreciate the invasion of privacy."

"I can't control my power, remember? Your privacy invades my privacy! Think I ilike/i gettin' blindsided by the bad shit people have tucked away in their memories?"

Scott's jaw clenched. He picked up his jacket. "You certainly think highly of my memories."

"I think as much of 'em as you do. And that ain't much. All that pain, neglect, gettin' fucked over by the system..." She took a breath. "I'm not pissed at you. I'm pissed on your behalf."

Scott turned back to her, confused. "Come again?"

"I got a lot of people's memories swimmin' around in my head, Scott. Most of 'em I just wanna shut out before I go completely nuts. But you know what's crazy? Yours are worse than most, and I don't wanna shut 'em out. I wanna see more."

He kept staring at her, curious about her sudden pause. "You do...?"

"It ... it angers me that you had to go through all that as a kid, but that's part of you. It made you who you are, and I-"

She cut herself off, as if she were forcing herself not to voice what she was thinking. "Forget it," she muttered.

"Rogue...?"

She turned around and walked toward the fireplace, holding herself and trembling as though she were freezing.

He stepped toward her. "Rogue."

"You're the only one I want in my head, all right?" She whipped around as she shouted this, and the sheer force of her declaration made Scott stop in his tracks.

That wasn't the only thing that made him stop. He dropped the jacket in his hand. "Uh, Rogue...?"

She was near tears. "What more do you want from me? I tell you this about myself, knowin' nothin's gonna come out of it 'cause I can't touch an' you're too hung up on Jean, an' you can't even say anything back?"

Scott wasn't looking at her. "Rogue, seriously..." He pointed to her left, directing her attention to five metal pokers that had risen from their spot near the fireplace. They were hovering in midair next to Rogue, pointing straight at him.

Her eyes widened. The metal rods fell to the floor with a loud clatter, but Rogue held out a hand and willing them to levitate once more. "How the ... how the hell am I...?"

Scott ventured a guess. "Magneto's power. I guess a trace of it was left behind."

Realization dawned on her as she studied the pokers, making them dance in midair. "That explains the weird glow I was gettin' in my peripheral vision. I was wonderin' what that was." She turned to Scott, excitement mounting at her discovery. "It's the electromagnetic spectrum. Magneto can see it. So can I now, I guess."

He scratched his head. "You couldn't when you were using Magneto's power in the city?"

"I could, I think, but it was stronger then. More overpowerin'. Now it's so faint I didn't know it was still there." She attempted to bend the pokers with the magnetism. It took a bit of concentration, but she managed to curl them into spirals and straighten them out again.

Scott watched, fascinated. "Cool. What else can you do, fly?"

Gently setting down the pokers, Rogue floated a few feet above the carpeted floor.

Scott applauded.

Watching him, Rogue pursed her lips in thought, then floated toward him. She took off her left glove.

"...Huh? What're you...?"

She stopped hovering, and reached out to touch his face.

Scott jerked back in self-defense as her bare fingers brushed his skin. He gripped his sunglasses to keep them in place.

Nothing happened.

"Rogue...? Your power - I didn't feel it absorb me."

"It didn't." A smile crept onto her face. "It didn't! It worked!" She wrapped her arms around a very confused Scott Summers and hugged him.

"I'm going to guess: magnetic field." He had to admit, this was a good use for it.

Then she kissed him hard on the lips.

The sensation was electric, and Scott kissed back, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. She peeled off her other glove, then touched his face with both hands as her tongue parted his lips.

A bulge formed in Scott's pants and pressed against her.

Rogue moaned as her tongue explored his mouth, and he felt her back him against a wall. The next thing he knew, she had rucked up his sweater and shirt around his underarms. "Want it off," she urged.

Scott helped her take them off, taking care not to knock his glasses askew in the process. This left him bare-chested, and as he tossed his sweater and long-sleeved shirt to the side, Rogue kissed his neck and collarbone before quickly shedding her own top layers. This left her in a lacy black bra.

Entranced, Scott watched as she took a step back from him and turned around, offering him a view of her bra-strap. Taking the hint, he unclasped it, then slid the shoulder straps down her arms until she was free of it completely. As she tossed the garment aside, her cupped her breasts from behind and kissed her neck where it met her shoulder.

Enjoying what his hands and lips were doing to her, she leaned against Scott even more. In the process, her shapely ass rubbed against his erection through their respective pants. She started grinding against him, earning a groan from Scott.

He kissed her on the lips again when she turned her head to the side, but then she surprised him by prying herself free from his grasp and facing him directly. She started frenching him deeply, but she didn't stop there. She started kissing a trail from his chin down to his collarbone and kept going. Her hands massaged his hard abs and the dusting of hair that became progressively denser the further down she went.

Scott gulped as she kissed her way down his stomach. Her nimble fingers found the button and zipper on his pants. "A-are you sure?"

Rogue unfastened the button, and pulled the zipper down to reveal the thin fabric of his boxers. "I'm sure. I want this so bad, Scott."

He was silently glad she chose not to comment on his X-decorated boxers; she simply reached inside them. His eyes closed when her fingers gripped his hard shaft and freed it from its confines.

"Mmmm ... look at this," Rogue whispered in reverent tones as she ran her hands along his length. "All long an' hard ... do I turn you on this much?"

He nodded. He couldn't tear his gaze from her. He'd never seen so much of her pale skin before, and he was hypnotized by the way it contrasted with the dark colors of her hair, lips, and lust-darkened eyes.

She buried her face in his tangled nest of pubic hair and breathed deeply, closing her eyes. "Smells so good..."

Scott dimly recalled something he'd learned in biology class about pheromones. But then Rogue nuzzled his cock and glided it across the contours of her face, and he lost almost all coherent thought.

There she was, using touch to explore his manhood the way a blind person might, and Scott was about to spill his seed right there. Still, watching her gave him an idea. "Ghh ... lay on your back," he urged her.

Rogue had opened her mouth and was about to guide his cock into it when he said that. She blinked at him, her eyes questioning. "But I was gonna ... y'know..."

"I ... I know. But trust me."

Curious, she laid down on the rug, looking up at him. Scott slid off his pants, boxers, and shoes, but when Rogue started to do the same he stopped her. "Not yet."

She whimpered.

Carefully, he straddled her torso, cupping her breasts with both hands. Beneath him, Rogue practically purred like a cat and arched her back, pushing her breasts upward against his palms. He then slid his manhood between her breasts, squeezing her soft globes together around it. Her breasts were just large enough for the activity.

Rogue gasped, apparently realizing what he was doing. "Ohhh ... that's it, Scott ... fuck my tits..." She placed her hands atop his to guide him.

Precum formed at the tip of his cock, and Scott closed his eyes as he rode her chest for several minutes - almost an eternity. "Rogue ... I'm about to..."

Hearing this, she let go of his hands and rolled them over so that he was on his back. Meeting his gaze, she gripped his shaft once again and slid her tongue from its base to its tip.

Then she dipped her head to engulf it, and Scott nearly lost his mind. Her wet, warm mouth felt incredible. He closed his eyes as he felt her tongue slide along the underside of his shaft. "Rogue..."

"Hmmmm...?" she asked coyly, vibrating his shaft.

Scott sucked in a breath. "K ... keep that up and I'm gonna come..."

She made a chuckling sound around him. Then her fingernails lightly raked his balls.

He squirmed as she teased him, running through Danger Room scenarios in his head to keep his composure. He realized he could no longer feel her hands, and he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled and the shuffling of fabric. Most likely she was getting rid of the rest of her clothes.

She continued to suck on his manhood, vibrating it with her moans, but Scott became aware of another, softer sound in the background. It sounded wet and rhythmic, as if...

As if she were touching herself as she used her mouth on him.

That did it. His eyes were still closed, but the mental image of that alone was enough to dissolve the last of his restraint. He let out a strangled grunt, and his cock spasmed, filling her mouth. He gripped his glasses to ensure they stayed on.

He slowly opened his eyes and watched as Rogue pulled away from him, her eyes watching him. A thin thread of semen extended from the tip of his cock to her lips. She swallowed her mouthful, and her face scrunched up. "Ugh ... no offense, but the taste ain't all it's cracked up to be, hon."

Scott blinked. "Sorry?"

She chuckled, wiping the residue from her mouth. "Not your fault. I'll just be sure not to swallow next time."

"Next time?"

"Shhh." She placed a finger on his lips. "Let's not ruin this with what may or may not happen after. Let's just enjoy what we have right n-"

He felt a sudden jolt, as if she'd dragged her feet across carpet and zapped him. But rather than the sting of electricity shooting outward from her, it felt as if that momentary touch had pulled something from him.

His eyes widened. Her power. Shit. He heard Rogue saying something to him, and she looked increasingly panicked, but he couldn't hear her. His eyelids felt heavy and he drifted off...

"...got to wake up, Scott. I don't know what I'm going do if you don't." He focused on Rogue's voice as he woke up and opened his eyes. She was sitting in front of him with her crossed arms resting on her knees. "Please, give me some kind of sign..."

He spoke; his voice came out in a dry creak, "you already have my glasses; what more do you want?"

Indeed, she was wearing the same pair of ruby-quartz glasses he'd worn before he passed out. He was pleased to note that the shades didn't look that bad on Rogue's face.

On the other hand, he noted with a swell of disappointment that she was fully dressed again.

For his own part, Scott realized he was wearing the battle visor that was typically a part of his X-Men uniform ... but the only other thing he had on was his boxers. "Guess this means Magneto's power wore off. Exactly how long was I out?"

She shrugged, somewhat shyly. "A minute or two, I guess."

"And ... that was enough time for _you_to get dressed..."

She shot him a dirty look. "Well, what do you expect? You passed out, then I felt your eye beams charging up, so I had to shut my eyes. From there I had to feel around to put my gloves on just so I could use your glasses. Once I had them on," she continued, "I got dressed to minimize the skin contact."

He touched his visor, making the connections. "And you found my visor in my jacket pocket."

"I - I mean you put it there after the fight with Magneto in case he came back or we ran into any more trouble." She tapped her forehead with a gloved finger. "It's right there in my memory."

He smiled. "So you put them on me so I couldn't blast a hole in the wall. You figured that I was still the bigger risk because you'd only absorbed a fraction of my energy."

"And I kept you in boxers 'cause it'd be too much trouble to get all the rest of your clothes on you." She paused for effect, then allowed a seductive tone into her words. "And because I like you better that way."

He sat up and studied her in amusement. "Sounds like some tactical thinking to me."

She blushed, feeling the keen eye of his scrutiny even through his eyes were covered. "Yeah, well ... what do you expect? I absorbed it from you."

He grinned. "As evidenced by the lack of Southern drawl. Your accent's gone."

Rogue looked away, even more embarrased. She hid her face in her folded arms. "It is not. I still have an accent, just not the right one. And yours isn't any better than mine, I'll have you know."

He chuckled and started putting on his own clothes. He stood up to slide his pants up onto his hips. He was no longer remotely erect; it was hard to believe he'd received oral sex mere minutes before. "I never said my accent's better than yours. I _like_ your accent."

She glanced up at him, and judging by the flicker of the tiny pinlights behind her shades, she was blinking at him in disbelief. "You do?"

"Of course I do. I like the way it sounds." He zipped and fastened his pants, then looped his buckle back into place. "Or at least ... I like the way it sounds when you say it." He glanced at Rogue, fearing she'd find that admission to be impossibly corny.

She picked up his shirt, then stood up and sauntered up to him. "You do, huh? Well that's good ... because it'll be back."

He let out an uncharacteristic snicker.

Offended, Rogue whipped his shirt at him. "What? What was that for?"

"Sorry ... sorry! It's just..." He slipped the long-sleeved shirt on. "That sex-kitten voice of yours works so much better with the drawl."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Asshole."

"Brutally honest," he corrected her, then put on his jacket. "We have that in common. Now come on; we have an appointment with the Danger Room."

Her brows knit in an expression that combined confusion and utter horror. "Late at night on Christmas Day? Why the hell would we do a thing like that?"

He smiled. "You have to get rid of the optic blasts, don't you? I promise, it'll be fun."

Skeptical, she let him lead her out of the boat house and into the cold snow outside. "Couldn't this wait until morning?"

He didn't say a word. He continued walking toward the mansion, keeping a secret his other reason for wanting to use the Danger Room.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Part 2

_**Title:** Christmas Gift (2/3)_

_**Author:** Wyzeguy_

_**Universe:** X-Men Evolution_

_**Pairing:** Scott/Rogue_

_**Summary:** Following the events of "On Angel's Wings", Scott and Rogue find themselves getting even closer._

_**Rating:** NC-17_

_**Warnings:** Language; Concentual sex between teenagers (but not minors, since Scott was 18 during the flashback sequence while Rogue was 17, which is legal in the state of New York)._

_**Disclaimer:** All characters herein are owned by Marvel Characters, Inc. I am making no money off of this; I'm simply exploring a possibility that exists in my head between two of my favorite characters. Please don't sue._

**CHRISTMAS GIFT, Part Two**

**Wyzeguy**

**CHRISTMAS DAY, 2001**

_~Scott,__Rogue,~_ the telepathic voice of Professor Charles Xavier spoke into the heads of two of his students, _This__is__a__rather__unusual__hour__for__the__two__of__you__to__venture__into__the__Lower__Levels.__Is__something__the__matter?~_

Scott Summers and Rogue glanced at each other as they stood in the descending elevator. "Just a little accidental contact, sir," Scott replied aloud even as he transmitted the thought through the link. "Nothing major. Rogue has some optic energy to get rid of, so we're going to use the Danger Room. Nothing to worry about."

_~I__see,~_ Xavier replied after an almost imperceptible pause. _~In__that__case,__I__trust__the__two__of__you__to__be__responsible__and__to__use__your__better__judgment.~_

The two teenagers stood in the elevator in silence for the rest of its trip to the Danger Room level. It was possible that Charles had withdrawn his contact with their minds, but they couldn't be certain. They tried to avoid thinking about the specifics of their "accidental contact".

Consequently, that contact was all they could think about. Rogue had found herself evidencing a trace amount of the magnetic power she'd absorbed from Magneto earlier in the evening. That power had manifested as a thin magnetic field that had allowed Rogue's skin to touch Scott's. And the inevitable result was a heavy makeout session followed by oral sex.

But all of that had been more or less premeditated contact. The accidental part had come in when Rogue's magnetism had run out. She'd absorbed a fraction of Scott's power, and now she was wearing Scott's ruby quartz sunglasses to hold back the concussive energy threatening to pour from her eyes.

"Think he's stopped eavesdroppin'?" she asked Scott.

He shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"Think he's been keepin' telepathic tabs on us all along?"

"…I hope not."

Rogue looked around at her surroundings with her usual skepticism. "So let me get this straight," she commented as she fidgeted with the gloves on her X-Men uniform. "Your master plan for comin' down to the Danger Room was so we could be in a simulation of the mansion."

Sure enough, she and Cyclops were carefully traversing one of the mansion's upstairs hallways – specifically the girls' dormitory wing. Cyclops had set up and run the simulated file without telling her what he was up to. "My master plan involves giving you a target so you'll expend your power," he explained now.

"Don't you mean _your_power?" She pointed to the visor on her face, which Scott had swapped for her sunglasses, which he was now wearing.

"Details. Now keep your voice down." He kept his own voice in quiet tones as they moved through the unlit hallway toward a corner. "They're coming."

"Who…?"

Three hovering drones, oval-shaped and bearing paintball turrets, floated around the corner and fixed their red optical sensors on the two X-Men.

Cyclops and Rogue dived to opposite sides of the hallway and rolled to avoid the drones' barrage of paint balls. "Rogue, take them out," Cyclops commanded, though he didn't return their fire himself.

"Why don't you do it?"

"This is your training exercise, not mine."

Rogue pressed the trigger button on the side of the battle visor, opening up the ruby quartz lens and unleashing a powerful optic blast that took out both drones at the same time. "So why're you down here in uniform with me?"

"Moral support," Cyclops replied. "And to give you a few pointers on controlling your optic blasts." He gestured at the hallway's inside wall, through which Rogue had punched a massive hole with her optic blast. "Pointer Number One: try not to open the visor all the way."

"Got rid of all the energy, didn't I?" Rogue retorted as she inspected the damage. The diagonal angle of the blast had exposed the interiors of three dorm rooms, and debris was everywhere. All in all, it looked like a bomb had just gone off in the hallway. "I can see some upsides to this."

Scott raised an eyebrow behind his glasses as Rogue removed her visor, handed it to him and entered one room in particular. "And what're they?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "This is a fake mansion, so I didn't do any actual damage. Hell, this is supposed to be my room, but everything in it's generic."

Scott chuckled. "The sim was based on generic floor plans of the mansion. I mean, if you'd like, I could do inventory of your actual room, to get all the details just right."

She turned to him, giving him a flirty smile. "You'll just use any ol' excuse to go into my room."

Scott took a few steps into the simulated bedroom, choosing his steps carefully amid the rubble. "And what if I did?"

Rogue closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. "You can come in my room anytime."

"The same room you share with Kitty Pryde?"

"She ain't in _this_ room, is she?"

He moved his face closer to hers, until his warm breath could be felt on her skin. "Exactly. Now you see my cunning master plan. This was why I selected this particular environment in the first place."

Rogue stepped backward, pulling Scott with her until they were both lying on top of the simulated mattress. "So you can get me into a fake bed?"

"Mostly so I can try out a theory," Scott replied, and rolled off of her. "Take off your uniform."

She raised an eyebrow. "All of it?"

"It's fewer layers than what you were wearing before, right?"

"Good point." Flashing him her best seductive smile, she stood up from the bed and removed her gloves. She then slowly unzipped her uniform and peeled it off of her, giving him an impromptu striptease show.

Scott reclined on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows. He watched her with a sly smile as she stepped out of her boots and uniform and stood naked before him.

He glanced up at the ceiling. "Computer? Project a thin-membrane forcefield onto Designate: Rogue. Coordinate the field with her movements."

The Danger Room's computer complied, shining a beam of light onto Rogue that gave her body a slight glow.

She studied her skin with dawning comprehension. "A forcefield … kinda like my…."

"Kind of like the magnetic field you used back in the lake house," Scott finished for her. "That's what gave me the idea. And the computer synchs up with your movements, the way Kurt's holo-watch works with his. Same principle." Sitting up, he removed his glove and placed his bare hand on her stomach, moving his palm all the way up her body until it caressed her cheek.

Rogue drew in a shuddering breath as he did this, and as she held his hand in place, she moved even closer to him. "Fine. I just have one last question." Her breath tickled his face.

"Yes?"

She reached around to search for the zipper in his uniform. "Why're you still wearin' that?"

"Can't think of a reason." Smiling, Scott unzipped his suit, and Rogue helped him peel out of it. In very little time, he was just as naked as she, except for his ever-present glasses.

Laying him on his back on the bed, she straddled his hips and pulled him in close for a deep, passionate kiss. His cock was getting hard; it brushed against her bare ass. "Now there's nothin' in the way anymore."

The kiss left the faint taste of his own semen in his mouth, and Scott debated the pros and cons of that as Rogue gripped his shaft and started stroking it to get it harder. It was still a bit sensitive from earlier when Rogue had used her mouth on him; now it very quickly returned to its former hardness as he and Rogue continued to french. He decided he could get used to the taste if it meant he could indulge in activities like this.

Soon, Rogue adjusted her position and guided his cock into her entrance. She began to sit down on him, and they both moaned at the feeling of him entering her.

It took a while, but they went in a lot further than Scott expected. "Shouldn't there be a...?"

"A hymen?" Rogue snickered. "Sugar, I got a vibrator. Think some flimsy little barrier's gonna survive that?"

"Guess not..." And now Scott had the mental image of her in her actual bed at night, pleasuring herself with a vibrating device that may or may not have been larger than the real thing. But before he could agonize over whether or not he measured up, Rogue settled down on him all the way and twisted her hips the tiniest bit. The sensation completely incinerated his train of thought.

She whimpered, her voice laced with pleasure. "An' ... an' you know what I do when I ... use that vibrator?" She raised her hips, pulling him out partway. "I think of you, Scott. I-I imagine it's you ... deep inside me."

Scott raised his own hips to meet her descent. He closed his eyes as he filled her once again; the two of them repeated their movements until they built up a steady rhythm. Between their actions and Rogue's words, Scott's blood was boiling with lust.

"I imagine you're fuckin' me..." she went on, pumping her hips as she held onto his chest. "Fillin' me up ... ohhh ... makin' me so ... soooo ... hot!"

They picked up speed. Scott cupped her warm breasts with his hands and massaged them, exploring them while Rogue urged him on.

"Just like ... that ... yeah, c'mon, Scott, fuck me ... fuck me..."

Her body started shaking on top of him, and she held onto him even tighter. Scott opened his eyes and watched her as every muscle in her body tremored - especially the ones surrounding his cock.

She was coming. He was making her come. But before he could enjoy that thought too much, he realized he was about to come as well. He lifted her hips and slid out of her, rolling her onto her back on the bed. He sat up and pumped his shaft; long streams of semen spurted from his cock, splashing her pussy, inner thigh, hip, and stomach.

Rogue watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he emptied himself on her hot body. "Y'know," she commented, breathing heavily, "I woulda let you come in me."

Catching his breath, Scott eyed her curiously. "But what if I got you pregnant…?"

"Well, there's that, I guess. But now we got a mess to clean up." Grabbing the edge of the simulated bed's top blanket, she used it to wipe up the semen on her skin. She wouldn't have stained her own bed that way, but luckily this wasn't her bed. "So wait, what happens to the stain when this whole illusion disappears?"

Scott pondered this as he put his uniform back on. "Good question. It'd probably still be there, and we'd have to explain a puddle of genetic material left on the Danger Room floor." Getting an idea, he aimed his visor at the stained spot and unleashed a tight-beamed optic blast. The stain was incinerated, along with that part of the simulated blanket.

Rogue flinched. "Damn! A little warning next time?"

"Sorry." Now fully dressed, Scott sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Rogue, who was still naked. "So … are you gonna to get dressed?"

She waved a dismissive hand with what little energy she had left. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm perfectly relaxed."

"We can't stay down here, you know."

She frowned. "I know. But just a little longer. I-I don't think I'm ready to give this up just yet." She pulled him onto her, embracing him. "You gave me this … this gift, but tomorrow…."

Scott buried his nose in the aroma of her sweaty hair. "Tomorrow you're afraid we'll act like nothing ever happened."

"Isn't that the plan? Have your fun with me, then forget about it when ev'rybody else is around?" She sounded scared, on the verge of tears.

"Shhh … you said it yourself, Rogue: Let's not ruin this with what may or may not happen afterward. Let's just enjoy what we have right now."

"All right," Rogue replied, though Scott could tell she wasn't as ready to accept that as she wanted to be.

The two of them laid in bed, entangled together in the silence of the dark room. Neither moved; they just listened to each other's breathing.

"Scott?" Rogue spoke after some time had passed.

"Hmmm?"

"Merry Christmas." The way she said it, Scott had the nagging feeling she'd wanted to say something else. Something more intimate.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Rogue."

He had to admit, he liked the way this felt.

**JUNE, 2008**

Scott felt as if his mind were being ripped apart.

The fiery aura that comprised Jean Grey's Phoenix effect had expanded in size to encase Scott and Rogue as well. As Scott writhed in agony from the Phoenix's mental invasion, he was dimly aware of his X-Men teammates launching an assault. He tried to focus on that, on Storm's lightning bolts, Colossus' superstrong punches, Iceman's freezing blasts, and Beast's powerful kicks. It was a pleasant alternative to focusing on the tidal wave of chaotic memories being dragged out of his head.

Peripheral movement caught his attention, and Cyclops glanced to the side to see Shadowcat leaping toward them, clearly about to rescue them by phasing through the Phoenix's forcefield. Trouble was, the Phoenix knew what he knew, and she turned off Kitty's intangibility as soon as Shadowcat touched the forcefield. Kitty screamed.

"Why are you helping them?" the Phoenix demanded, telekinetically freezing the X-Men in place around her. "Why are you trying to stop me from finding out the truth about them? That Scott Summers, for all that he pretends to be the knight in shining armor, is willing to throw away a friendship the moment some ... some tramp finds out she can touch him!"

Rogue's screams intensified. "And you," the Phoenix ground out as the turned to face the younger woman. "You've absorbed all those people, stolen all those minds ... including mine! I want that piece of my mind back!" She reached out - with her real hands - and dug her fingernails into Rogue's temple.

That more than anything else focused Cyclops' mind, spurring him into action. "Jean! Listen to me! You have to listen to me!"

"Why should I listen to you? Why should I care what you have to say when you've been fucking her all these years? How can I trust you?"

"Jean, none of that happened. All these images you're pulling from my mind - you can't tell fantasy from reality!"

She was incredulous. "You want to see reality? _This_ is reality, for everyone to see!" Wisps of flame shot from the Phoenix effect and shaped themselves into a pair of humanoid figures, manifestations of what all the X-Men were seeing in their minds. The detail on the figures was sculpted away until they were unmistakably images of a younger Scott and Rogue. 'Rogue' was kneeling in front of 'Scott'; 'her' head was bobbing along the length of 'his' shaft. "This is what they've been doing!"

The flame images twisted around each other and reshaped themselves into 'Rogue' straddling 'Scott' as 'he' lied on a bed. Another twist of flame, and 'Rogue' was on 'her' hands and knees, being drilled from behind by 'Scott'. More scenarios and positions followed, each more intense than the last. "Even after Scott got together with me," the Phoenix went on, "he continued to carry on with her behind my back. They kept using the Danger Room. They found other ways to touch. Well, no more. This is going to stop. _They_ ... are going to stop."

"Jean, listen to me!" Cyclops shouted. "You have to calm down; you're going to kill us!"

The Phoenix smiled. "I certainly hope so."

"No! No, you don't, Jean. As upset as you are, you've never wanted to see anyone hurt. No matter what's happened, you still don't."

Jean's eyes widened. The fiery sculptures of Scott and Rogue dissipated. "Scott...?"

"Listen to the sound of my voice. Find your center. You can reassert your control over your power. Please, Jean ... trust me."

Tears filled her eyes, but they were amost instantly evaporated. "I ... I want to. Scott, I'm scared..."

"You can control this, Jean. You can keep from hurting anyone else. You can-"

"No, I can't." Her voice quivered. "Scott, I can't control this. I can't control what's in my head. All these thoughts, emotions-"

"You can, Jean. Just ... just listen to the sound of my voice."

"No!" She punctuated her outburst by flaring up her Phoenix effect, launching the X-Men in all directions away from her. The flare-up also incinerated Scott's visor.

"I can't control this forever," Jean whispered, cupping his face in her hands. "It's ... it's stronger than me. It always has been. I can't ... I can't do this anymore. I don't want anyone else to suffer."

Scott's eyes were wide with more than just fear; his optic blasts were held back by her telekinesis alone. "Jean, please ... trust me..."

"I do, Scott. I love you. Which is why I want you to be the one to end it." Her fingertips caressed the edges of his eyelids. "I'm glad I finally got to see your eyes."

She released her telekinetic grip. His concussive beams tore her body apart.

**TO BE CONCLUDED**


	3. Part 3

_**Title:** Christmas Gift (3/3)_

_**Author:** Wyzeguy_

_**Universe:** X-Men Evolution_

_**Pairing:** Scott/Rogue_

_**Summary:** Following the events of "On Angel's Wings", Scott and Rogue find themselves getting even closer._

_**Rating:** NC-17_

_**Warnings:** Language; Concentual sex between teenagers (but not minors, since Scott was 18 during the flashback sequence while Rogue was 17, which is legal in the state of New York)._

_**Disclaimer:** All characters herein are owned by Marvel Characters, Inc. I am making no money off of this; I'm simply exploring a possibility that exists in my head between two of my favorite characters. Please don't sue._

**CHRISTMAS GIFT, Part Three**

**Wyzeguy**

**CHRISTMAS DAY, 2008**

Some people dreamed in black and white. Scott Summers dreamed in color. Depressingly, that color was usually red.

_Jean,__please__...__trust__me..._ A struggle against a telekinetic grip. Crimson energy straining against forcefields.

_I__do,__Scott.__I__love__you.__Which__is__why__I__want__you__to__be__the__one__to__end__it._ Fingertips caressing the edges of bare eyelids. _I'm__glad__I__finally__got__to__see__your__eyes._

A flood of released energy. A beautiful body blasted apart. A howling scream cut short.

"Jean!" Scott shouted, bolting upright into a sitting position on his bed. His hands reflexively touched his sleeping goggles to make sure they were still in place. Sweat poured from his hairline, and his chest rose and feel with deep breaths.

It was the dream once again. He knew it was a dream and not just a memory because Jean Grey hadn't screamed. She hadn't had the opportunity. He told himself that it meant she hadn't suffered.

Small comfort.

A faint clattering noise caught his attention. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. He hadn't had many visitors since he'd left the X-Men and bought a cabin in Alaska; his plan was to be a hermit and so far he'd been off to a good start. Sure, he'd had the occasional visiting X-Man, but they'd always been sent packing when he made it clear that under no circumstances was he returning to the mansion or the team.

His body was tense as he left his room, wearing the simple red t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he'd worn to bed. The clattering in the kitchen continued, and he approached with mounting concern. It could be another X-Man with a prepared pep-talk; it could be one of the X-Men's many enemies.

It could be a raccoon.

He doubted it, though: the kitchen light was on, and he doubted a raccoon or a supervillain would have bothered turning on the lights.

"Merry Christmas, Scott," the visitor greet him, and Scott stopped in his tracks. It was Rogue. More importantly, it was Rogue with a full spread of pre-prepared food. She wore a dark green sweater and tight blue jeans; the dark brown duster that had become omnipresent in recent years was draped across the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Scott drew in a breath, not sure how to begin. "How did you sneak in with all of this without tripping any alarms or making more noise?"

"Well, gee, I've only been datin' Gambit for how long?"

"Good point," he admitted, then he sighed. "Rogue, I'm still not interested in rejoining the team. I've said that to Kurt, I've said that to Ororo, and-"

"Who said anything about the X-Men? They're busy puttin' together plans for a strike against the Sentinels." She gestured at the Tupperware containers. "I just wanna make sure you have a proper Christmas dinner."

"I've already eaten tonight," he protested. "Before I went to bed."

"TV dinner, right?"

"Well ... yes." He found himself blushing.

She smirked and affixed him with a look that made him blush even more. "I rest my case."

"They've finally set a date, huh?" Scott asked an hour later over dinner as the two caught up on current events and gossip. Rogue's food had been warmed up, Scott had replaced his sleeping goggles for his regular glasses, and there was even some light Christmas music playing in the background (Rogue had insisted).

"Yeah, they finally set a date," Rogue confirmed after finishing her last mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Took 'em long enough: Ms. Monroe and Dr. McCoy have been circlin' around each other since we were in high school."

Scott chewed his food, thoughtful, before swallowing. "Y'know, it took me the longest time to think of them as 'Ororo and Hank' instead of 'Ms. Monroe and Dr. McCoy'. 'Storm and Beast' was easier, but still..."

"Hell, I'm still workin' on how those two ended up a couple in the first place," Rogue admitted.

"My guess would be that it might have started during those Senate hearings they attended on behalf of mutant rights. Add to that the fact they've been working and living together, and as you said, they've been circling each other ever since."

"Sounds like you have some prior experience with that."

Having lifted a forkful of sweet potatoes toward his mouth, Scott paused and looked at her. He decided not to touch that subject with a ten-foot-pole; instead he asked, "so when's their wedding?"

"First day of spring, of course," Rogue replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Fitting date for a weather goddess, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow, bemused. "Yeah, guess so. Does that mean we'll have to start calling her 'Mrs. McCoy'?"

"Naw, she said she's keepin' her maiden name, so she'll be Mrs. Monroe. She doesn't see the point in the woman always bein' the one to give up her name for her man."

He nodded. "Hank might be more likely to change his name to 'Dr. Henry Monroe'."

She covered her mouth to hold back her laughter. "I could see that! Besides, you know much of a mouthful it'd be to say, 'Ororo Monroe-McCoy'?"

He leaned back in his chair, pondering this. "I don't know ... I think it sounds catchy."

The two of them couldn't help but laugh at that, and Scott welcomed the release.

"When was the last time you laughed, anyway?" she asked, pointing her spoon at him.

"I can't remember." He found that easier to say than, 'before Jean died.'

"Remember the good old days, when we were this close? Two friends, talkin' for hours, makin' each other laugh?"

Scott put down his fork and looked away. "I remember the old days, Rogue ... but not the way I should."

She frowned, staring at him with sad eyes. "It's this again? You're still claimin' our memories ain't real?"

"It's not a mere claim, Rogue. It's a documented fact. I've kept meticulous journals of my activities over the years, and those memories don't match a single one of those journal entries. Danger Room session logs don't correspond. Mansion surveillance footage, phone records, other people's recollections ... should I go on?"

Shoving her half-finished plate aside, she crossed her arms. "Naw, I think you made your point. You don't wanna have nothin' to do with the idea of the two of us bein' together." Rogue usually had the excellent grammar of an avid book-reader, but her rising anger caused her to revert to her backwoods upbringing. Her Southern drawl thickened as well.

"Do you want me to live a lie? Jean Grey implanted those memories in our head because they were her paranoia given form. Thanks to what the Hellfire Club did to her mind, she couldn't tell fantasy from reality." He fixed Rogue with a cutting glare undiminished by ruby quartz glasses. "Do you honestly want me to do the same thing?"

Rogue opened her mouth to respond, but Scott wasn't finished: "How'd Gambit take the 'news' of what you and I supposedly did?"

It was her turn to look away. "We broke up," she admitted, pronouncing the words as if they tasted sour in her mouth. "He didn't take it well. When he found out through the grapevine, he thought I'd been lyin' to him."

His eyebrow raised. "Lying...?"

"When I said he was my first. I swore I was losin' my virginity to him, an' Jean made a liar outta me."

Scott's jaw dropped. "He broke up with you for that? I wouldn't have thought the issue of virginity would have mattered to ... someone like him." He winced at that choice of words. While he didn't trust Remy LeBeau very far, he was at least happy when the two became a serious couple, as Gambit helped her come to terms with her mutant power and her sexuality. He'd helped her to see that her absorption ability wasn't as much of a hindrance to intimacy as she'd thought. Instead, he'd interpreted it as a challenge and worked around it in no time flat. Scott had still been wary of him because he couldn't tell whether he really cared about her or he simply wanted to get into her pants.

Rogue opened her mouth as if ready to defend him, but she seemed to decide it wasn't worth it. "Guess it mattered to him. But really I think what really bothered 'im was _who_ I supposedly gave my cherry to."

"Me?" Scott blinked. "Why would he see _me_ as competition?"

She blushed. "Might be the alias I'm goin' by: Kate Wagner." She pronounced her last name the same way Nightcrawler pronounced his last name - logical, as he was her stepbrother.

But it was her first name that Scott focused on. "'Kate'?" Uncomprehending, he stared at her. Then the gears clicked into place and he remembered the significance. "That character in the play?" A teacher at Bayville had once paired them up to act out Shakespeare's _Henry__V_, with Scott in the title role, and Rogue in the role of Katherine.

"What can I say? You made an impression on me when you read me poetry."

"That was my character reciting poetry to Kate, remember?"

She smiled. "Exactly."

So much for dodging the bullet on a technicality. "So Gambit thinks ... you have feelings for me."

Her green eyes stared into his. "Yeah. And Scott ... he ain't wrong. After all this time, I still wonder what we might've had together." Abruptly, she grinned. "Though all that hot sex might've been a clue."

"Those memories weren't real, Rogue," Scott asserted, losing patience. "I refuse to pretend they were."

"Why, 'cause that would mean you had a little bit of fun in your teen years?"

"'Fun'? What's fun about cheating on Jean?"

"Well, if she's the one who implanted the memories, that means it was her idea, right?" She grinned. "'Sides, as far as memories go, it beats most of my actual ones. I mean, c'mon, which do you think I'd prefer: 'Dear Diary, I spent most of the day after school doin' homework, then got into an argument with Kitty about her music.' Or: 'Scott drove me up to Lookout Point. Made out with him for ours, then he went down on me.'"

Scott's eyes widened at that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as a bulge formed in his lap.

Rogue obviously noticed this, because a sly smile crossed her face. "I see you remember that day." Standing up, she sauntered to him and sat in his lap ... right on his bulge. "Certainly was hard to forget that one."

He groaned at the sensation. "Rogue..." The potency of his voice was diminished by the desire flooding it.

"You like this, huh? Just like all those times where you liked bendin' me over the hood o' your car ... or pinnin' me against a wall ... or fuckin' my ass..."

"_Rogue_."

"Kate," she corrected.

"None of that _happened_."

"No, but it was what you _wanted_ to happen." She held his gaze, daring him to contradict her. Those weren't just my fantasies, or Jean bein' paranoid. There's gotta be somethin' of yours in there." She started rocking her hips, grinding her crotch against his. The layers of their clothing did little to diminish the sensation. "Some of it's gotta be your fantasies."

Scott stared up at her, letting out deep shuddering breaths.

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Or are you gonna tell me you never ... at any point in your life ... wanted to fuck me?"

"Well ... of course. But ... I was a teenager..."

"And now you're a man." She adjusted her positioning to lock eyes with him once again, and in the process her sex ground against his even harder. "And I'm a woman."

That did it. He leaned forward, placed his hand on the back of her head, and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

Their lips parted, their tongues slid together, and moans escaped both of them.

But common sense kicked in, and Scott broke the kiss and pulled away. "Don't-!" He blinked, licking his lips. "Wait. You should have..."

"Absorbed you like a sponge?" Rogue - Kate - licked her lips as well. "No longer mandatory. Surprised?"

Scott nodded. "How...?"

She slowly removed her right glove. "Turns out Jean left me a little parting gift. There at the end, she came to her senses and realized what she was doin' to my mind. Guess this was her way of apologizin'."

"So ... you can touch, now?"

"Since June, yeah. It's not a secret, either, 'cause I told ev'rybody at the mansion."

"And I missed it because I was preoccupied with Jean's death."

She placed her bare hand on his. "Honey, I don't blame you. I don't even blame her for what happened."

He looked up at her, speculatively. "Guess this explains why you've taken her tampering of your memories uncharacteristically well."

"Hey, like I said, they're good memories." She wiggled in his lap as she said this.

"I guess they are, at that." He leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. The kiss was accompanied by a flurry of roaming hands, both hers and his.

The feel of Rogue's bare skin under his hands was everything the implanted memories told Scott it would be, and then some. Her body writhed against his touch, and her temperature rose within the confines of her clothing.

Her hands were having the same effect on _his_ body. They started tugging at his shirt, and he helped her remove it. Her hands slid all over his stomach, and especially his abs. Her touch conveyed a shift in her mood, from passionate to curious.

"Coulda sworn you were in better shape than this," she whispered in his ear. "You growin' love handles on me?" She playfully grasped the slight rolls of flesh above his hips.

He abruptly chuckled. It was true: his body was no longer as toned as it once was. "I can't exactly rely on a Danger Room for a workout these days," he answered.

"I'm just teasin' ya," she assured him, her questing hands continuing to roam. "You still feel like you're in pretty good shape."

"That makes two of us." A thick layer of hunger infused his voice as his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs tracing the hard contours of her abs. That was an understatement: she was in _unbelievable_ shape, owing in part to her permanent superstrength. Her body had been petite and trim in her teen years, but as an adult she had blossomed into a woman with a peerless body. Her hips were wide and round, and as his hands moved up to her bra, he appreciated how much she'd filled out in that area as well.

He caressed her breasts through the fabric of her bra, and she inhaled sharply, gasping at the sensation. It was a familiar response: he remembered her doing that every single time he'd touched her breasts as they'd made love.

_False__memories,__Scott,_ he couldn't help but remind himself. _This__is__the__first__time__I've_ ever _touched__them._ But a whimpering sound from Kate brought him back to the present. He resolved to focus on the current task, and he tugged off her sweater and t-shirt as she raised her arms. Tossing the clothing aside, he reached around to her back and unhooked her bra with nimble fingers.

Kate captured his face between her hands, caressed his cheekbones, and kissed him roughly. She ground her crotch against his one last time, then she stood up from his lap, taking her body heat with her.

It was Scott's turn to whimper as he looked up at her, watching her as she turned her back to him and slid her bra off her arms. His gaze took in the sight of her tossing the garment onto the pile of their discarded clothing as she started walking away.

Her fingers started unbuttoning the fly of her jeans as she glanced over her shoulder. "You comin' or what?"

He blinked, realizing she was heading in the direction of his bedroom. He scrambled to his feet, almost knocking the chair sideways to the floor as he gave chase.

Kate was already on the bed and sliding off her jeans when Scott entered his bedroom. She eyed his pajama bottoms hungrily, and when he approached the bed she tugged them down to reveal his hardening member. "Mmmm ... just as I remember it." She started stroking it with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.

Scott moaned as he watched her do this. He looked down at her - at her shapely figure clad only in panties - and he licked his lips, his mouth dry with lust.

She gave his shaft a few tentative licks before she engulfed it into her mouth. She looked up at him with affectionate eyes as she went down on him again for the first time.

He placed one hand on the wall next to the bed for support, and he glanced over at a pair of sleeping goggles resting on his nightstand. Closing his eyes, he traded his glasses for the goggles with a few practiced movements, though the feeling of her tongue sliding up and down his cock threatened his concentration.

Finally, his goggles were correctly in place, and he gazed back down at Rogue in time to watch her remove his cock from her mouth and squeeze it in between her large breasts. "Remember this?" she asked as she slowly slid her soft globes up and down on his shaft.

All he could do was nod; the sensation was indescribable. He couldn't have forgotten the first time he'd fucked her breasts, even if the memory happened to be false. They were reliving those memories and making them real.

Even so, he couldn't help but think they could do better. After a few minutes, Scott instructed her to, "lie down on your stomach."

Curious, Rogue did so, obviously wondering what he was going to do next. He moved around the bed until he was behind her, deliberately moving slowly to increase her anticipation. Kneeling on the bed, he moved a hand to her ass, gliding it across the thin fabric of her panties until his fingers brushed the lips of her pussy. He stroked them through the material, earning a moan from her.

He could feel her moisture beginning to soak her panties. "Want me to take them off?"

Her breathing increased as she rested her head on her folded arms. "Yeah..."

He continued stroking her, as if he were in no hurry at all. "Are you sure?"

Her voice rose with urgency. "Yessss ... c'mon..."

"'Come on'?"

She grabbed the sheets in tight fistfuls as her back arched. "Come on an' rp my panties off, Summers! Rip 'em off an' fuck me before I lose my mind!"

"Not yet." He heard her whimper as he spread her legs a little bit and shifted the fabric aside a bit to expose her hot, wet sex to the air. Dipping his head low, he began lapping at her folds.

She buried her head into a pillow to muffle an inarticulate cry. Bucking her hips, she ground her crotch against his face, desperate for him to maintain any kind of contact with her womanhood.

Finally, he lifted her hips and slid her panties down her legs, and she assumed a kneeling position with her head and arms still resting on the pillow.

As he guided the head of his cock to her entrance, he planned on moving slowly. But clearly, she had other ideas. As soon as she felt the hardness of his manhood, she pushed back against him to insert it as deeply as possible. He groaned as he entered her completely in one movement; he wasn't sure there was a word to describe the sound _she_ made.

The vice-like tightness of her vagina was like nothing he'd ever experienced. It was like the tightness of a virgin, only ... magnified. If he'd had enough of a train of thought left, he might have attributed it to her superhuman strength. As it was, the sensation made it very hard for him to think clearly.

He pulled back, then pushed himself in deeper. Her tunnel was already soaked, so the more he slid his cock in and out of her, the easier it became. His pace quickened, and their moans filled the room.

"Harder," she urged, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "Don't ... hold back..."

And he _didn't_ hold back. If anything, he quickened the pace and strength of his thrusts until he was slamming into her hard enough to cause permanent damage to a normal woman. Luckily, she was quite a bit more resilient than that.

Rogue kept urging him on, though her words were no longer coherent. She got the point across as she bucked her hips with her own formidable strength.

The bed shook as they fucked as hard and fast as they could, until finally Rogue shuddered underneath him as Scott pulled out and showered her back with his come. Their orgasms were nearly simultaneous, leaving them to collapse on the bed, catching their breaths.

"That was ... amazing, Rogue," he muttered between gasps of air as he tried to catch his breath. "Or Kate, I guess I should say."

"Either one's fine, hon," she informed him, just as exhausted. "Now aren't you glad I came over?"

"I am at that. Merry Christmas," he said, lying on his back. "And thanks for the present."

She crawled onto his chest, locking gazes with him. "Oh, that ain't all of it. That was just Round One."

"Oh. Even better."

In the dim hours of early morning, Scott stirred. He peered at Rogue through ruby quartz sleeping goggles, watching her sleep. She was still naked beneath the covers, and her pale skin stood out in sharp contrast to her dark hair, just as it always had.

Her brow furrowed as she started to wake up. "Mmmmwha' time is it...?"

"Still early." He gently caressed her shoulder. "You don't have to be anywhere, do you?"

She glanced around, realizing she was still in Scott's room, in his bed. "Nowhere but here, no." She snuggled up to him, attempting to go back to sleep. She seemed to notice Scott was still staring at her. "What?"

"'Do you like me, Kate?'"

She blinked, trying to wake up so she could make sense of that. "You're askin' _now_? 'Course I like you. Wouldn'ta ended up here if I didn't."

"You're supposed to say, 'I cannot tell what is, like me.' Preferably in a French accent." He smiled, quoting Shakespeare. "And I'm supposed to say, 'an angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.'"

Comprehension finally dawned, and she grabbed the pillow from under her head and swatted him with it. "Oh gawd, Summers, you are such a cornball."

His grin widened as he blocked the pillow with his forearm and grabbed it from her grasp. "Funny, last time I said that you said I was a charmer."

"Last time you didn't say that at an ungodly hour." Taking the pillow back from him, she covered her face with it, trying to block out the world.

Consequently, her next sentence was muffled, and Scott couldn't make it out. "Say again?"

Kate peeked from under the pillow, speaking more distinctly. "I said, 'but thanks for callin' me an angel.'" More seriously, she pointed a finger at him before he could say anything else. "An' don't even make a Warren Worthington crack, or I swear I'll punch you."

"How'd you know I was going to?"

"I know you too well, Summers."

"'Summers' now? Not 'Scott'?"

"Not at this hour. Now let me sleep." She rolled over, yanking the blankets from his side of the bed.

"Your wish is my command, Kate." He ignored her groan and headed for the shower; the smile was still on his face.

"Oh, sorry if I scared you," Kate apologized, standing there in one of his bath robes and probably nothing else underneath. "Guess Remy's thievin' skills rubbed off on me."

"Don't worry about it. Are you hungry? There's toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, juice..."

Smiling, she kissed his cheek and sat in his lap. "Breakfast of champions, huh? Yeah, I'm starvin'." She studied his thoughtful expression. "I know that look: you're workin' on somethin'."

"Last night, you mentioned a strike against the Sentinels. Tell me more."

A victorious smile crossed Kate's face.

By New Year's Day of 2009, Scott Summers had returned to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. It had been rebuilt since Jean Grey had laid waste to it months before, and it stood virtually unchanged.

Scott himself had changed dramatically. He had shaved, worked himself back into shape, and he now moved with a purpose he had lacked since he'd lost Jean.

This was due in no small part to the woman who accompanied him back to the mansion: Rogue, alias Katherine Wagner. While he didn't exactly announce it to anyone, he took no great pains to hide his relationship with her when he rejoined the team. The two moved into Scott's suite in the mansion and promptly endured their friends' countless questions and variations of, "it's about time!"

After they'd successfully put the Sentinels out of commission, they attended the wedding of Ororo Monroe and Henry McCoy. Naturally, everyone expected Scott and Kate to be the next couple to walk down the aisle.

Neither of them rushed it, though. They decided to be content with what they had, regardless of what the future held, or what had really happened in their pasts.

**CHRISTMAS DAY, 2001 - WHAT REALLY HAPPENED**

Scott warmed up inside the boathouse, glad that none of the other students were currently on the grounds. Leaving his jacket on, he took off his gloves and warmed them in the heat of the fireplace.

"Likin' the fire?" Rogue asked, reclining on the rug next to him. She'd warmed up enough to remove her jacket, and was now in her light-colored wool sweater and jeans. "Why not take off the jacket, an' stay awhile?"

"I'm fine like this," he replied, though he did feel the need to unzip his jacket more. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath as well, though it wasn't as bulky as hers.

"Yeah, right. You're gonna burn up in that thing before too long."

He smirked. "You just want to watch me take off my clothes."

Her voice came out in a purr. "Never said I didn't."

Scott decided to stare straight ahead at the fire. Suddenly he wished there _were_ other students around. Maybe then her attention wouldn't be so relentlessly focused on him.

She sat up and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Oh, c'mon, Summers, don't clam up on me now. It's just a little harmless flirtin'."

From there, the conversation spiralled into a discussion on the dangers of his optic beams and the pros and cons of being interested in "safe" girls like Jean and Taryn. But before he could get too perturbed at Rogue, she managed to diffuse the situation with a grin. "See? That's what I like about you: you're always thinkin'."

Almost against his will, he felt himself relaxing. He had a hard time staying mad at her, especially when she opened up this much around him. The two of them had talked more in the hours they'd spent in New York than in the rest of the time he'd known her. He was pretty sure she didn't talk to ianyone/i that much.

Then again, neither did he, to anyone but Jean. And even then, there were some things he kept from her. Like angels...

He shed his jacket and lied down on the carpet next to Rogue. They stayed that way in companionable silence for a long while, and somewhere along the way Rogue curled up to him with her head resting on her chest. This felt familiar, like the way they'd reclined in the Bentley as they'd been driven back to the mansion.

Rogue finally fell asleep at some point. Just as Scott was about to do the same, he picked up a telepathic message from Charles Xavier: _~Are__the__two__of__you__going__to__stay__in__the__boat__house__all__night?~_

_We__might__as__well,__sir,_ he thought back. _It__seems__like__too__much__trouble__to__wake__her__up,__put__our__coats__on,__and__go__back__into__the__cold__just__so__we__can__go__to__bed.__We__can__sleep__in__here._

_~Very__well,__Scott,~_ Charles replied after a moment. _~I__trust__your__judgment.__We__will__see__you__in__the__morning,__then.__Good__night,__and__Merry__Christmas.~_

"You too," Scott mumbled as he sent that thought to the professor.

Standing up and stretching, he carefully picked Rogue up and carried her into one of the guest bedrooms. Setting her down on the bed, he placed the blankets over her and tucked her in. He didn't turn on the light, so he had very little light to work with, but he managed.

She moaned and shifted a bit as he did this, possibly in the midst of some dream or another. Not wanting to interrupt her, he turned to the doorway and prepared to leave.

He stopped in mid-stride and glanced back at her. Thinking about it for a moment, he moved back over to her and placed a very gentle kiss on a lock of hair covering her forehead. This way she wouldn't drain him.

"Good night, Rogue," he whispered, then left the room and closed the door behind him. He slept in a different room, but all in all, he had no complaints. It was the best Christmas he could remember having, and it had ended on a positive note. It was certainly a Christmas he was sure he would never forget.

**THE END**


End file.
